Let’s see how many bites it takes.
Ian’s thoughts scattered like grains of sand falling through fingers as Rick dropped him on his enormous bed. He barely got settled on the firm mattress when Rick stripped him down in less than thirty seconds. Ian just lay there watching Rick with hooded eyes as firm fingers teased.
Then he stepped back, and as frantic as things had been mere seconds ago, Rick, the big tease, carefully removed his clothes, putting on a show. His body was a thing of beauty, all hard lines and dips. It was easy to see how he held on to the bull.
Power, it emanated from him. It filled the room, fuck the house. It was now inside Ian, and wasn’t that the darndest thing. A part of his mate flowed through his veins, his strength. It empowered Ian if he focused on it and made his arousal pulse, and leak pre-come over his stomach as Rick held his gaze and licked his plump lips.
Images filtered through his mind of what Rick imagined doing to him. For a brief second today, when he’d spoken with his mom about her expectations, he’d considered a life with an omega. It would have been a half-life, he realized and that would never have been enough.
Rick stepped to the bed, his eyes ablaze with lust. “You were made for me, as I was made for you,” he rasped, reaching to grip his ankles and drag him to the end of the bed until his ass was hanging off the end of the mattress. Clearly, he’d caught Ian’s thought before he could say anything, he rumbled, “Now for dessert.”
Everything faded away, his mind a whirl of desire. Moaning, groaning, and whimpering when Rick kneeled to kiss and lick, teasing the inside of his left leg, worshippinghim with his mouth.
No one had ever taken the time to pleasure him to the point of madness, by the time he’d worked his way down his right leg, ignoring the bobbing cock that moved in time with his pulse.
When he kissed his way back up and reached his groin once more, Ian was ready to beg, sell a kidney if necessary, with how the pool of pre-come was growing on his quivering flesh. “Please, stop teasing me, fuck me.”
Rick’s chuckle was pure filth. “I’m worshipping you, precious. I’m showing you that you mean more to me than just a quick fuck.”
Ian was so conflicted, because fuck, his heart was now a puddle in his chest, but he really wanted Rick to put his mouth on his cock, or his tongue, fingers, or dick in his ass. Any combination would be good right about now, so he could come.
When Rick took pity on him and sucked his balls into his mouth, Ian jabbered utter nonsense when that frisky tongue flicked lower to his taint. Rick released his balls, spat on his hole, then swallowed his dick down to the root, while using his fingers to rub the wetness into the rim of muscle guarding his ass. He tapped to let him know he wanted him, and then he pushed one finger in knuckle deep, the wetness not nearly enough to stop the ache and burn. Both were welcome when they took the edge off and gave him a feeling of fullness.
The finger slowly rotated until it pressed against the bundle of nerves. Ian wailed at how his body became electrified and jerked on the covers. His feet danced on the carpet. Then the suction on his cock registered, and he had no chance of stopping the juggernaut of desire that seized hold of his body.
It could have been seconds, minutes, even hours, before the maddening tingling in his balls ran down his cock and with it came spurts of come, his balls drawing up painfully as they emptied into his mate’s willing throat.
Tastes so good. Tastes like mine.
His balls made a last-ditch attempt to find more as the scent of his mate’s come filled the warm room.
You smell like mine,Ian replied, because fuck if he didn’t.
He stared at the message from his mom, telling him to increase the Sunday booking to include his brothers and their partners and his sister and her husband. He should have seen this coming. Before he could start guessing what it all meant, the sound of his front buzzer rang through the apartment.
Seeing Lionel’s smiling face on the tiny screen, he buzzed him in and waited at the front door, knowing exactly why he was here on a Wednesday in the middle of a workday.
Lionel and Hector would be nothing but happy for him, so he was relaxed when Lionel appeared out of the elevator, giving him a knowing look.
“Why am I hearing about your mating third-hand? Hey?” Lionel grinned so widely he looked as if his lips were trying to slide off his cheeks.
Ian beckoned for Lionel to come into his apartment, chuckling, “I take it Toby told Hector and Hector called you?” He walked into his office, hearing Lionel follow behind him. He was in the midst of figuring out what he would need to have with him to work in one of Ernest’s spare rooms—if that happened.
That morning, Rick had brought it up again after dropping Ian back at his apartment, reminding him of Ernest’s generous offer. He really wanted to speak to Ernest to check before he said yes. But there was nothing that said he couldn’t be prepared in the meantime.
“It was Brad, actually. He heard it from Morty, who is beside himself after Toby said that he’d met Rick, so now they are all conspiring to get an invitation so they can meet your mate.” He clapped Ian on the shoulder, shaking with laughter. “Let’s hope you don’t get a penis cake.”
Ian spun to look at Lionel, who couldn’t seem to contain himself as he had tears in his eyes, he was laughing so hard. “Penis cake? Is Morty putting—”
Lionel shook his head. “No actual penis’s were harmed in the making of the cake that Monty made for Ernest and Toby.”
Ian winced at the thought of eating a cake that resembled an appendage he was very fond of. “So is that why you’re here in the middle of the day to give me a heads up?”
“Yes and no, I came to gloat really, and find out more about this Rick. Toby says he’s the quiet, grumpy type.”
“He’s not grumpy, and he’s not quiet with me.” Ian recalled Rick on the back of the bull, shivering, a twinkle in his eye. “He’s got the soul of an adventurer.” He might not want him ever doing that again, but he still wagged his brows at Lionel.
Lionel perched on the edge of Ian’s desk, arms crossing over his chest, the sweater stretching to accommodate his bulk. “You’re dressed very casually for a Wednesday, what gives?”
